


We Could Be Heroes

by kalisgirl



Category: The Tomorrow People (2013)
Genre: Backstory, Bechdel Test Pass, Canon Divergence, Gen, Women Being Awesome, character study masquarading as plot, unlikely teammates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 17:24:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1558229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalisgirl/pseuds/kalisgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cara sends Astrid, Hillary, and Irene to save a breakout before Ultra can capture her.<br/>Astrid, Hillary, and Irene think she's crazy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Could Be Heroes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadySilver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySilver/gifts).



> Happy Rare Women, Lady Silver. I took your suggestion and sent all three ladies off together, but it ended up being a far more character-based piece than a plotty one.
> 
> This spins off from the show around 1x16 (Superhero).  
> The title is from Bowie's _Heroes_ , as sung by Astrid in 1x12.

Astrid Finch always dreamed of being special. Not the simple dreams she shared with John Young while she was desperately trying to hold his blood inside his body with her shaking hands. No, really secret dreams that no one has ever known, of having magic, super powers, abilities like the characters in her comic books. Then she watched Stephen disappear into thin air.

Hillary knew that she was meant to be a hero. When her cousins made sand castles, she put on her helmet (bucket), took up her sword (branch), and defended the kingdom. When her parents were murdered, she focused so hard on fighting back that she developed powers that allowed her to defend other people’s families. Then she ran into Ultra.

Irene knew she wasn’t normal. She’d always known. Her parents taught her how to ignore the insults, even though they were true: she was a freak - the youngest kid in school, and university, and grad school, but whatevs. All Irene wanted was to learn and explore, not to have friends or fit in. Then she met the Tomorrow People.

* * *

Astrid perched awkwardly on the edge of the couch cushion, trying to understand why she had been brought back to the underground lair where she had spent some of the worst days of her life. All Stephen had had told her when she met him behind the school was that the Tomorrow People needed her help with something. He had teleported them away before she could ask what she, a human, could do to help a gang of super-powered rebels in their fight against an evil secret agency.

Cara had explained the situation to her but it hadn't made much sense: she wanted Astrid to go to Boston to bring in a break-out who could help with the fight against Ultra. That was bizarre – Stephen did this kind of stuff all the time, but Astrid?

“Why me?” she asked bluntly. “I get that you guys do this kind of thing all the time, but me? I'm human, not some super-powered spy. Y'know, a high-school senior, not James Bond.”

Stephen smirked from where he lounged on the couch behind Cara. Astrid glared at him briefly before looking at Cara again.

“You'll be working with Hillary and Irene,” Cara explained. “They'll take care of the parts that require powers. I want you there to take care of the part that requires...” she trailed off awkwardly.

“Normalness.” Russel said bluntly. “She wants you there because no matter what Stephen says, Hillary has all the charm of a brick wall.” He winked when Astrid rolled her eyes. “And there's Irene, who's, well, Irene. Cara needs you to make sure that our rescue team doesn't scare the break-out right into Ultra's arms.”

Cara raised an eyebrow at this rambling explanation, but she was also nodding. “That's part of it, definitely. You know how terrifying it can be, Ultra coming after you. I think that Sarah needs someone who can keep her calm during the extraction. Irene's not calm on her best day, and Hillary's not... diplomatic.”

Even Stephen laughed at that. Astrid grinned and gave the answer she'd always known she would.

“Of course I'll help,” she said. “If there's anything I can do to keep Stephen and all of you safe from Ultra, I'm going to do it. Just tell me how to help.”

Russell whooped and jumped up from the couch. “Awesome. I'm going to tell Irene.”

“Thanks, Astrid,” Stephen said, pulling her into a hug. “I knew we could count on you.”

The two boys headed out of the room, leaving Astrid with Cara and John.

“Thank you, Astrid,” John spoke for the first time. “I know this must be pretty intimidating. And I'm sorry, because I'm about to make it worse.”

He reached behind his back and produced a handgun. Astrid tried to hide her shock.

“I think you should take this,” he said, walking towards her.

She stared at him.

“Please, Astrid.” He turned the gun so that the handle was pointing towards her.

Was it even called a handle? she thought inanely. That seem wrong. Her hand reached out for the weapon, and she watched with a weird sense of distance as her fingers closed around metal. It was strangely warm in her hand, and she realized that John had probably been carrying it against his body somehow, maybe down the back of his jeans like in an action movie. That had always worried Astrid, guns down pants. Like, what if it slipped and got wedged in your underwear, or caught in a belt loop? Plus, didn't guns get hot when you fired them and if you stuck one in your pants after, would you burn your butt? It all seemed like a bad plan.

She realized that John and Cara were staring at her as ridiculous thoughts careened around her brain. The gun hung loose in her hand, a strangely heavy weight.

“I don't know how to use it.” It was the first sensible thought she'd had since the gun touched her fingers.

"You've used a gun before," Cara reminded her.

"Yeah, and I'm pretty sure my eyes were closed the whole time," Astrid pointed out.

“I'll show you how to hold it,” John said. “I hope you never have to point it at anyone, but I want someone there who looks like they could pull the trigger. Ultra knows full well that Tomorrow People can't kill. At least you can pretend to intend to shoot them, unlike Irene or Hillary.”

Astrid was tempted to argue with that – she had sure believed that Hillary meant to shoot her that time at the fake audition – but John’s sad eyes trapped her voice in her throat.

“You don't have to take it, Astrid, but think about it,” Cara said. Her smile was soft but her gorgeous eyes were sad. “I know this a lot to ask of you, so I want to give you everything possible to make you feel safe.”

Astrid nodded. “I'll take it, though I think I'd rather there weren't any bullets in it. Will the Ultra people know if we do that?”

John shook his head. “Not unless you're thinking 'I wish this gun actually had bullets in it' when you point it at them.”

She grinned at him. “I'll probably be thinking 'yikes, yikes, yikes, get me out of here' much too hard for them to pick up any thoughts about bullets.”

Cara's laugh was as pretty as her eyes. She clapped Astrid on the shoulder. “There's that courage I saw when you saved John's life,” she said smiling. “Exactly the outlook to make this team work. I hope you realize that I trust your instincts to make the final call on how this mission runs?”

Astrid nods slowly, agreeing with both the spoken and silent questions. This was the other reason she had agreed to go along: she figured that Cara wanted her there because Cara couldn't trust Hillary to make the right choices. Fair enough: Astrid sure as hell doesn’t trust Hillary, either.

“I'll do what I can,” she replied. “But do you really think Hillary is going to listen to me?”

“I do,” Cara said confidently. “I know you might have a hard time believing it but of the three of you, you're the natural leader.”

Astrid scoffed, ducking her head.

“No, seriously,” Cara argued. “I say this as someone who has spent a bunch of time trying to figure out leadership – you've got what it takes to get people to do what you need, even make them want to do it for you.”

“You make people stronger by being on their side. You made me believe I could keep fighting,” John added. “I'd follow you anywhere you told me to." His crooked grin made Astrid flush. 

Astrid took as step back from John and Cara. Their expressions were intense, and she was starting to feel like maybe she'd made the wrong decision after all.

“I don't know about that. I'm only human, not a superhero like you...” she began

“Astrid,” Cara interrupted, “you're not 'only' human. You're our friend, our ally, and in some ways you're the bravest person in this lair. I mean, if something goes wrong, we can use our powers. You're willing to go up against Ultra with nothing but an unloaded gun. You didn't even hesitate when I said we needed help.”

Cara stepped forward and pulled Astrid into an awkward hug. It was clearly not something she did very often, but Astrid was willing to give her points for trying. After a long moment, Cara moved back.

“You're stronger than you realize, Astrid. You've already proven to us that you don't need powers to be a hero,” she said, taking John's hand. “We believe in you. You should believe in you, too.

* * *

Hillary leaned back against the lumpy pillows and pretended to sleep. It wasn't even a possibility, with Irene clacking away on her laptop and Astrid snoring on the cot. 

God, this was the most boring mission ever. Which was fine: Hillary had planned for it to be as boring as possible, because she had planned to do it by herself. Instead Cara had turned a simple snatch-and-go into a recruitment trip and saddled Hillary with a pair of side-kicks who probably couldn't even land a side kick.

Hillary snorted lightly at her own bad joke, and immediately regretted it when Irene spoke.

“Hillary?” she asked quietly.

Hillary ignored her for a moment.

“I know you're awake,” Irene announced. “Your breathing and eye-movements are all wrong for someone in the early stages of sleep. Even super-agents like you can't fake autonomic behaviours like that.”

Hillary sighed and rolled to face the younger girl. She refused to open her eyes, though.

“Fine,” she said. “What?”

“How did someone like you end up at Ultra?”

Her eyes popped open. That was not what she was expecting. Nerves about tomorrow's mission would make sense. Questions about Stephen – Hillary was well aware of Irene's little crush – were to be expected. But this question wasn't one she could easily deflect.

“I just don't get it,” Irene carried on, apparently not noticing the effect of her question. “I mean, you're all kick-ass tough agent lady, but you pretty much hate Ultra, don't you?”

Hillary had to smile at that. She did pretty much hate Ultra. It was why she'd been so happy to find out that Jameson wasn't actually the worst agent ever, but in fact a rebel working against Ultra.

“So how'd you end up an agent?” Irene asked again.

“I didn't have a choice,” she answered. “Or rather, I had a choice between becoming an agent or getting my very own container at the Citadel.”

Irene winced. “The Citadel?”

“Yeah, nice little padded cell, regular visits from Nurse Rachet, the works.” Hillary's humour fell flat in her own ears.

“Don't they usually just strip break-outs of their powers if they don't want to work for Ultra?”

“Sure, for usual break-outs,” she sighed. “But I wasn't your average teenager, TK-ing stuff I didn't feel like carrying and eavesdropping during tests. I kind of pissed Ultra off.”

Irene's face lit up with curiosity and amusement. “You got up in Ultra's face? Seriously? I thought you lived for rules.”

“Hardly,” Hillary grinned. “Rules are guidelines. I believe in something way more important: justice.” She took a deep breath and pushed herself up in the bed. “See, my family was killed when I was young, younger than Charlotte even.”

Irene's face fell, and she made a move towards Hillary. A quick glare stopped that idea. The silence in the room stretched until Hillary thought she might shatter it when she spoke.

“I started to develop powers not long after,” she began quietly, “but at the same time, I gave myself a mission. I was going to avenge my family. When I broke out, I knew my powers were meant to help me bring my parents' killers to justice, and so I trained and trained...” she trailed off, painful memories clogging her throat.

“Did you...?” Irene asked vaguely.

“Yes. I found the men who killed my family and I convinced them they were being haunted.” Hillary shook her head. “I mean, I tried to kill them first, but we all know how that goes. Once I worked out that I couldn't kill them myself, I figured I'd go with the next best thing: get them locked up forever.”

“And?” Irene was perched on the edge of her chair.

“Well, they confessed just to get locked up 'safely' in a hospital for the criminally insane. So I guess I won.”

“Wow,” Irene said. “Cool. Did Ultra catch you because of that?”

“No. It was because I kept going. I was so angry, and revenge isn't as satisfying as you'd think.” She shook her head. “I guess if I'd stopped then, I would have been fine, but oh well. A girl named Talia found me, said she knew a way I could take more scumbags down.”

“Talia? Like Scarlet Avengers Talia?”

Hillary nodded. “That's the one. She gave me a mask and my first target.”

“Wow! That's really cool. You were an actual superhero.”

“I guess,” Hillary agreed. It had felt more like the only way to keep from going crazy, but from Irene's point of view maybe it was heroic. “Anyway, I took it from there. Had a good run, too. Almost three years. Then I tracked the wrong creep to Flatbush and Ultra nabbed me.”

“Shee-it.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I got offered the no-win choice and joined the trainee program. I was almost willing to accept the hand I'd been dealt when Stephen showed up.”

“And it was love at first sight?” Irene fluttered her eyelashes.

Hillary tried not to laugh too loud. “Not hardly. Jameson is a bit of an idiot, actually. He's a definitely crap agent, there's no debating that. But he helped me find the Tomorrow People, so I can't say it's been all bad.” 

“Is he at least a good kisser?”

“I wouldn't know,” Hillary admitted.

“But you want to find out?” Irene asked knowingly.

Hillary rolled her eyes to avoid answering. Sure she wanted to find out, but she wasn't about to admit it in front of Irene or the no-longer-sleeping Astrid. She still had some hidden dreams that she wasn't about to share with just anyone.

“I've got more important things than kissing boys to keep my mind occupied, Irene. Like a certain break-out we have to sneak out from under Ultra's radar tomorrow morning.”

“I know!” Irene gestured to her computer. “I've been researching Sarah Jones all evening. And gathering all that security stuff you wanted. This is so exciting.” She bounced in her chair. “You know, I've never been sent on a real mission before.”

“Is that so?” Hillary asked dryly. She could swear she heard a faint snort from Astrid's cot. “Well, if I can give you one piece of advice?”

“Please,” Irene said, leaning forward.

“Sleep. It will make tomorrow much easier if we all get some sleep.”

“Oh.” Irene blinked. “Oh, yeah, of course.” She shut her laptop. “I'll just let that run on its own.” She stumbled slightly as she stood, and Hillary sighed. “I'm just going to brush my teeth. Can't have lazy dental hygiene just because we're being superheroes!”

Hillary stared after the younger woman, a smile breaking across her face. Hillary found Irene to be naive and kind of silly, but she was also unfailingly honest and she thought Hillary was a hero. She had forgotten how good that felt. Perhaps it was time to find that red leather mask again.

* * *

Irene was feeing amazingly confidently with this whole mission thing. She hadn't expected to be much use – with Hillary “Super Agent” Cole on one side and Astrid “Super Human” Finch on the other – but it's kinda alright. I mean, who could compete with someone who fought off an Ultra squadron, or the girl who saved John's life with a sewing kit and vodka. It was like tagging along with Black Widow and Sharon Carter or something (Irene may have snuck out to watch Cap 2 a few times. Chris Evans. Sebastian Stan. Sue her.)

Anyway, she had totally expected to be the third wheel on this whole trip. Instead, it had been pretty cool. She and Hillary had had a crazy weird talk in the middle of the night, with the Red Avenger reveal and everything. And Hillary had made Irene part of the plan: she got to do some cool stuff with the algorithms on the security key cards that Hillary had swiped (hah, pun!) from the security guard. And now Irene was making the approach to 'the subject' because Astrid had said that she, Irene, was the best person for the job.

Hillary's mouth had actually kinda fallen open at that one. Irene had enjoyed that almost as much as the idea that Astrid trusted her to be the one to talk to Sarah. Once Super-Agent got her brain back together, she and Astrid had had a bit of an argument about the whole thing, a totally restrained, tense 'discussion' that was like a verbal knife fight. Astrid polite-ed Hillary right into a corner and got her to agree with everything. Irene wasn't super good at clocking other people's emotional states but she knew for sure that when it was over, Astrid was feeling pretty good about herself.

The crazy part was that when Irene thought about it, everything Astrid and Hillary had said was true. Yeah, Hillary was right when she said Irene was young and flaky and weird (not in those words, but it was what she meant). That Irene wasn't normal wasn't news to anyone. She had been the youngest in everything she ever did, from grade school to graduate school. She'd never been good at structure – her brain just worked better in chaos. And people... well, Irene wasn't the best at people.

Astrid had said that it would be okay, though. It didn't matter that Irene wasn't normal. In fact, it was good that she wasn't, because Irene was going to be able to connect to Sarah Jones in ways that Hillary and Astrid couldn't. Astrid had said to her “Just think of what you wish someone had said to you,” and it all made sense.

So Irene was feeling good about this whole thing as she walked down the hall towards Sarah Jones' lab. Walked, not sneaked. Those were Hillary's orders. Apparently being stealthy sometimes involved being really normal. Which kinda sucked, because a) not as much fun, and b) Irene wasn't all that good at being normal.

This hallway she was walking down, in a totally not-obvious way, was a big reminder of how not normal Irene could be. It was the high-security wing of the science facility at a university that Irene had sighed over back when she was twelve. Before MIT offered her the world on a platter just because Irene was smarter than pretty much everyone going.

She had been fourteen when she started working with Dr Brooks. What an honour, right? The top man in his field taking on a kid as his doctoral student. Even brought her onto a private sector project he was working on with this totally brilliant, super intense British guy. Problem was, Dr Brooks hated women, and he hated cheerful people, and he really, really hated anyone being smarter than him. Of course, Irene couldn't help being all three. It was a total disaster. Irene tried to chill out, dress like a grown-up, hide the times she was five steps ahead of him. Everything she could do to be as normal as possible so that he wouldn't yell. Just when she thought it couldn't get worse, the stress triggered her break-out. Suddenly, she was extra abnormal and it really was a problem. She tried to hide her abilities from Dr Brooks, push them down the same way she did everything else, but then one day he was yelling at her and suddenly he went flying across the room. He made one phone call and Ultra was on her trail.

So as hard as Irene had tried to be normal, it obviously wasn’t meant to be. It wasn't a bad thing, really. She liked the Tomorrow People, and the lair was fun – even though she was still a weirdo, she was surrounded by people who were all weird in their own way. Still, she missed a shared lab, or a good seminar group. She wondered about the unfinished dissertation that was somewhere on the the MIT servers. Being back in a university was making her jones for a tough lecture, a new textbook, a fresh lab journal.

Through the wire-glass windows, Irene could make out diagrams that her fingers itched to expand, equipment set-ups that she desperately wanted to fiddle with, and so many people who might actually be able to have an intelligent discussion about the cytochrome-c oxidase paper she'd just downloaded. That wasn't why she was here, though, so focus on the goal, Irene.

The goal was a student named Sarah Jones who had begun to exhibit break-out symptoms about three weeks ago. If that weren't enough, she was also some kind of biochemistry genius. Irene had read all her papers, and the rough draft dissertation that was stored on a poorly secured cloud drive, and it was possible that Sarah was almost as smart as her. Which would be so cool, because then they could talk about that CIV paper. Once they got back to the lair.

That meant getting to Sarah's lab – check! thanks to Hillary's super key – and then getting Sarah to come with her. It was the second part that was a little fuzzy in the planning. But Astrid thought that Irene was “perfect” for the job, and Irene has always kind of felt like Astrid was perfect at everything so she would know. Anyway, Irene was going along with the plan for the moment.

The moment pretty much fizzled once she was standing outside lab 6C. To knock or swipe? Just barging in would be a bit rude. So knocking.

Okay, maybe again, this time with more confidence so that actual noise happened.

As she watched Sarah Jones walk towards her, Irene fisted her hands in her pockets. Her whole body tensed, so she let Astrid's voice fill her head.

_“You know this girl, Irene. She is so much like you: bright, young, scared. Just think of what you wish someone had said to you back then.”_

Irene looked at Sarah through the safety glass and realized it was true. She smiled, not grinning, not smirking, but like she smiled at herself in the mirror some days. A smile that said “You're okay, we're gonna be okay.” Because it was true.

She and Sarah were going to be okay because they were smarter than 99% of the world **and** they could TK anyone who gave them shit for not being normal. They were going to be okay because they had strong, fierce heroes like Hillary to stand up for them, and they had good, kind heroes like Astrid giving them support and strength.

In fact, Irene was going to be better than okay because she knew, suddenly really knew, that she could do this, she could help Sarah Jones. She could be a hero, too.

* * *

Sarah Jones was having a bit of a panic attack. It was fairly textbook: chilled skin, rapid heart rate, a tendency to fall over when she tried to stand up. It was also quite understandable: she'd just been teleported (teleported!) to an alley behind her apartment. Her next destination was going to be an underground bunker that housed a secret society that was apparently run by teenagers. Yes, a panic attack was the most logical reaction to the situation.

Still, she felt she was responding fairly well, all things considered. When Irene had opened with 'next step in genetic evolution' and 'mental powers,' Sarah had wondered about the possibility of a prank. After all, she was often the butt of jokes, being young and a bit odd. But Irene had seemed entirely sincere, and there was something in her demeanor that was familiar to Sarah. It was like looking into a painfully honest mirror: the awkward posture, the nervous babbling, the lack of eye contact. Irene was so much like Sarah had been at 16. It was that more than anything that had prompted her to follow the younger woman's lead when two large men in dark suits burst through the hall doors.

As it turned out, that had been the right choice. They had barely made it out the building's back stairs when a black SUV swung out of traffic and halfway across the curb, spitting out more men in black suits. A brunette woman stepped out of a doorway, waving her hands wildly. Abruptly, the men stumbled backwards, tripping and falling over each other. The woman then turned and grabbed Sarah's shoulder. Sarah only had a moment to register that the stranger had also caught Irene's arm when she was yanked forward, and suddenly they were stumbling down an alley. Sarah would have fallen if someone hadn't caught her around the waist and held her up.

Once she stopped gagging at the strange sensation in her stomach, Sarah turned to thank the person who had steadied her. Once again it was a teenaged girl, this one a little older than Irene, with gorgeous black curls. Her name, it turned out, was Astrid. The girl who had teleported (teleported!) Sarah was named Hillary. She was very focused on moving them out of the alley and didn't fully acknowledge Sarah's repeated thanks for the timely rescue.

Sarah allowed herself to be lead to her apartment, where she packed a few bags and watched Irene raid the fridge. Astrid sat Sarah down and explained about the men in suits, the Tomorrow People, and the fact that they had come to help Sarah to a safe place. Astrid's musical voice and assured manner was incredibly calming. It was almost enough to stave off the panic, but not quite. After all, she had just been teleported (teleported!) halfway across the city.

“We need to move.” It was Hillary speaking from where she stood watch at the window.

Sarah wasn't entirely sure she could move.

“Here you are,” Irene said, dropping onto the arm of Astrid's chair. “Apple juice and peanuts. Bit of blood sugar will do you good. Protein for the long haul.”

Sarah accepted the glass, drinking deeply. Irene was right: it would help. Hillary was also right: it was time to go before any more men in suits showed up.

“You can do this, Sarah,” Astrid said. “We'll be with you the whole way.”

Sarah looked at her rescuers, suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude. She was so lucky that the Tomorrow People had chosen to send her Astrid, Hillary, and Irene: each of them brave, brilliant, and strong. Three teenage girls weren't the heroes movies had taught Sarah to expect but here, today, they were exactly the heroes she needed.


End file.
